Trashed, Crumpled Envoys
by reveileb maerdyad
Summary: Letters? Yep.
1. Desperado Journalist

_Author's Notes: This is a letter (imaginary, yes, that's fan fiction for you) written by Raine for Laguna, while she was (supposedly) watching Laguna goof up during the early days of Laguna's stay in Winhill. Now, it's been a while since I've played ff8 (three years ago... ?), so I'm sorry if I get some facts wrong. -_^  
_  
**Disclaimer**: YES. Square owns Raine and Laguna, and all the other FFVIII pertaining facts, darn Square for not giving their relationship enough angst, though, and for letting Raine die! Bleah. Other than that, the plot, er, I meant the letter, is all mine! Ha!  
  
  
**Desperado Journalist**  
  


**A violet by a mossy stone**

**Half-hidden from the eye!**

**- Fair as a star when only one **

**Is shining in the sky.**

**- _She Dwelt Among The Untrodden Ways, William Wordsworth_**

* * *

My dearest Sir Knight and journalist,  
  
There you go, again, Laguna, making pleasant talk to just about anyone who'd listen to you. And just about everyone does, you know! They all drop everything they're doing for the chance to hear your stories, told with such animated gestures, and what surprises me is that they _really_ listen.  
  
Yes, and that goes the same for me, too. All you really have to do is look at me and I'd be mesmerized. But you wouldn't know that, would you?  
  
* sigh * 

Laguna, Laguna. Sometimes I wish I hadn't seen you that day - that day when you were wounded and you had no one else to care for you but me. Maybe if I hadn't seen you then, then maybe I wouldn't be feeling all of these right now.  
  
You confuse me, Laguna Loire.  
  
But oh, what am I thinking?! You were the one who changed our lives, and I'd go through it all again just to have you here with us. Amusing us with your adventures, telling us of your friends, becoming a father for Elle, even making me like the thing I dislike the most - swashbuckling! (Though that, of course, is something I'd never tell).  
  
It's almost funny how this town's changed so drastically when you arrived. Before you, Winhill's citizens were all a deeply mistrusting lot. Most of us cling so fiercely to old beliefs that I can't help but feel caged at times. We were quiet. Isolated from the rest of the world.  
  
But then _ you_ came. My very own desperado, in Galbadian uniform, no less. And for the first time in my life, I'd had the pleasure of seeing a person become so vibrantly alive like you. I remember even now how I used to think to myself (I still do, actually) that you were like passion personified, especially in the way you practically exude life out of you that it'd be hard-pressed indeed not to share in your zest. Your speak with too much gusto, your eyes sparkle so much, your arm theatrics too wild, and your long hair so adorably tousled (it also tends to keep falling into your eyes, making me wonder if it's all part of your charm), for anyone not to notice you.  
  
You're my journalist too. You are my eyes, and the world I see through yours is just nothing short of utopia. You have that rare talent of seeing everything too clearly, and yet you've still managed to retain enough of your childhood naivete to see a better everything to what we have right now. A world where there is no sorceress breathing down our necks. A world of peace.  
  
And yes, * sigh * a world of flowers - white flowers, to be exact. And a world full of snow - our gift from the faeries.  
  
"I'm in love with you, Laguna Loire. Who wouldn't be? Even that singer, ¦Julia Heartilly, is it? I bet she was in love with you, too. Whenever I hear her song on the radio, my eyes would go reflexively to you - and I see.  
  
I see the way your eyes glaze over, with fond memories perhaps, and I'd give anything to have you look at me like that. To have you look at me as if I were a small miracle, but a miracle nonetheless. But I might as well wait forever, now, wouldn't I? In your eyes, I'm just and _ always will be_ the girl who saved your life. The girl who grows such beautiful white blossoms, the flowers of Winhill. Your general who orders you around, like patrolling the outskirts of town. How unromantic can you get? Now if only I was a sorceress, then you would be my knight. But that'll never happen, so it'll never be enough.  
  
Your gratitude is welcome, but I'd take your love any day.  
  
You see, I can never be like her. For starters, my hair is a dull brown (like a brown mouse, you used to say, until Elle pestered you day and night for calling me that, and naturally, you had to give in), not midnight black like hers. My fingers are battered, used to tending plants my whole life; while hers are delicate masterpieces meant only for the black and white keys of the piano. I have my flowers; she has her music. And her song for you. (Yes, I had always known it was for you). Unfair, really.  
  
* sigh *  
  
I think I'm going to end this now, Laguna. You're heading my way already, and knowing you, you'd probably regale me with more of your stories and you won't stop until I cry with laughter. But I won't let you see me cry. See, a general doesn't cry.  
  
Well. At least, for the meantime, I'll have your eyes on _me_.  
  
(But deep inside, I can only _yearn_, and _yearn_, - and _yearn_, _for more... _)  
  
  
Yours forever in your journeys,  
  
Raine  
  
  


* * *


	2. Immaculate White Flowers And Blood - Red...

_A/N: So I decided to upload another "letter" 'stead of writing a sequel (saves space, don't ya think?)! Big whoop. ^_^ This one's on Laguna's POV…;)  
_  
**Disclaimer:** Square owns FF VIII, ain't that the hard truth.   
  
  
**Immaculate White Flowers and Blood – Red Roses  
**  


**"Love, love, love - that is the soul of genius."**

**- _Mozart_**  


* * *

  
What's up, Raine?  
  
Uh…I dunno why I'm writing this; I mean, I can always talk to you later back at the pub, right? I guess I just like talking to you all of the time…even when you're not here to answer me back. Does that sound weird? Man, sometimes I think I'm too stupid for my own good! That's probably why I always end up getting lost…I wonder…Nah! I'm just an aspiring (not to mention frustrated) journalist, so it's really okay and perfectly reasonable for me to write down my thoughts - you know, for practice and all that. Nothin' lunatic about it. Yeah…*nods head* I'm a genius!  
  
OWWW!!! What the…?!  
  
I've just walked straight into a…a lamppost?! (Whee! Look at all the stars!) Darn, it hurts real bad! Arrgh!  
  
* some agonizing moments later *  
  
Wish you were here right now to look at my head…you're always good at this stuff…though I bet you'd scold me first before asking if I'm alright. Yup, sounds just like you to do that. I can almost picture it in my head right now…you'd probably say, "Oh, Laguna! Now look what you did, you shouldn't be walking around Winhill and writing a letter at the same time! Honestly! And with monsters running loose…!", and then you'd shake your head at me, and sigh, _then_ ask if I'm okay… 

* Laguna's mouth quirks into a smile *  
  
Yeah, yeah, I know it sounds stupid to pay more attention to writing a letter than, say, watch if you're going to fall off a cliff or something, but hey, people do stupid things when they're in love…* Laguna blushes * (Did I just write that?) Er, uh, but isn't that the reason why I have Kiros with me? To warn me of any imminent and life-threatening danger? And speaking of Kiros…  
  
* sigh * Oh well, I should have known! Really, who needs friends who're willing to go patrolling with you and yet who refuse to say something helpful like "Don't look now, Laguna my friend, you're heading straight for a lamppost, so I, your ever loyal comrade and chum, am strongly advising you to take a sudden right turn so you'd spare your body some aches and pains."? * groans * And look at my loyal comrade now, he's actually smirking…! Apparently, he thinks it's funny! * grumbles *  
  
What can I say? Kiros is Kiros is Kiros. * shakes head * Say, I wonder what Ward's doin' right now? He's most likely mopping up after those Galbadians at the D-District Prison. Aw, poor big guy…Kiros and I miss him a lot, though my dignified friend here hasn't told me anythin' (he's too busy laughing as of the moment), I can tell. We'll get him outta there soon, yeah…!  
  
Hey, well, will you look at that! Summer in this town sure brings out the best of 'em flowers! I'm sure you'll be itching to get your hands on these; they even make me forget about my throbbing head! Hmm…blood-red roses…they remind me of someone. Her. Julia. (And my head throbs again with memories…)  
  
I wonder if Caraway's treating her fine? He'd better or I'll…I'll think of something!  
  
Julia Heartilly – the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. Beautiful, elegant, talented. I can still remember how her music could make me feel lighter after a hard day's work, how I used to lounge at Deling's Hotel just to see her and watch those fingers caress the piano, and wishing it was me she was caressing. I listened to her until everyone else was gone and I was the only one left. I'd looked at her eyes and saw my dreams come true.  
  
And also, I can't quite forget the horribly idiotic way I acted that night: limping off the first half of the evening while hearing her play, and then falling asleep on her hotel bed. Alone. * sigh *  
  
You know what, Raine? I really believed it was going to be Julia and me, us – together, like we were meant to be. I thought she'd wait for me. But fate interfered, and look at us now. She's gone off and married some wealthy general and I'm here, living off the rest of my life in this quiet town of Winhill.  
  
With Elle. And you.  
  
To tell the truth, it's really not so bad here, and I don't mind much. You guys are my family now, and I…care for you. A lot more than I'd have imagined possible. Scratch that, I'm in love with you.  
  
I just don't know if you feel the same way…  
  
When did I realize my feelings, you ask? Let's see, I'm not so sure myself, but there was this one time at the pub when I decided to stop and just look around. I was feeling pretty tired then, and I wasn't really up to chatting with anyone since that required a lot of energy for me. (Kiros once told me that I exerted more energy while talking to people than I did when killing off monsters…maybe he's right…I should give the guy more credit!) So yeah, I stopped and looked around. Everyone seemed to be having a good time. Elle was helping you with the flowers. And I sort of just sat back and looked at you when you thought I wasn't looking.  
  
I studied the way you quietly share your love for everyone by everything you do. Your efficient style of running the pub, and how your sweet spirit flares up in the most unexpected moments. I don't know how long I stared at you, content at what I was doing. Then you retired for the night, and I noticed how dreary everything felt after you went up to your room – like a candle suddenly extinguished of its flame.  
  
You're different, Raine. Exquisite in a way that no one else'll ever be – at least, for me. With Julia, it was all dreams and fantasy. But you – when I first opened my eyes after you saved me from death, I saw myself reflected in yours. And no, I didn't see dreams.  
  
In your eyes, what I saw was forever. I didn't know it back then, but I do now. I never thought I'd live to see the day when I'll be able to think of Julia or hear her song, and not feel any pain. Strangely though, everyday I spend here sort of heals away all the bitterness I hide within myself, replacing it with the certainty and assurance that anywhere, with you, is where I belong. Now I can be happy for Julia and not feel bitter about anything, because I've found my chance with you.  
  
* sigh * Of course, I'm still too much of a coward to do anythin' 'bout this…but someday, yeah…  
  
Oops, I'm smiling to myself right now while I'm thinking of you, and (surprise, surprise) Kiros is looking at me strangely with this knowing look on his face, so I better continue this another time, like at home where I'm safe from the dangers of the road and well-meaning (?) friends. Besides, I think I see some caterchipillars straight ahead…hmm, I wonder if you'd like some Spider Webs?  
  


Later,  


Laguna  
  
  
P.S. What do you think? Maybe I _can_ be a journalist, after all!  
  
Timber Maniacs, here I come!!!  
  


* * *

  
_F/N: Sorry about some instances where Laguna couldn't possibly have written (like when he bumped into the lamppost), I couldn't think of another way to write that scene; and you're probably annoyed with all the asterisks already…-_^ But hey, Laguna's pretty resourceful! Anyway, if you want more letters, then please, tell me._


	3. The Man I Used To Know

_A/N: After deciding against a secret love affair between a Sphinxara and a Catoblepas (the idea's not half bad, I may expound on it later…^ ^ ), I realized that to make this fic really angsty, we need to hear Julia speak as well. I'm no big fan of Julia (no offense to those who are) but let's hear her side, shall we? And oh yes, I made Caraway's first name to be "McDohl", a tribute to my favorite Suiky 1 hero. However, I'd be the first to admit it doesn't sound quite right…_  
  
**Disclaimer:** This is the last disclaimer for all the "other possible chapters." This is only a single fic, after all, and don't you get tired of saying the exact same thing for every chapter? *shrugs* I know _I_ do. So, for the last time (for this fic, at least), Squaresoft owns FF8. (_And I lay me down to cry.)_  
  
  
**The Man I Used To Know**  


**"The one who loves you will make you weep."**

**- _Argentine Proverb_**

* * *

  
The world outside is a happy one, full of happy things and happy people. Everywhere around Deling City you can hear singing, melodic voices, and much, much raucous mirth. Today is my wedding day.  
  
So why do I feel like crying? And why should I be writing to _you,_ of all people?  
  
Memories of a long ago night assail me, of a Galbadian soldier who could not quite keep his puppy-dog eyes off of me, and who could always make me smile despite myself. You always made me feel like some big star, and not another pianist just doing her job to earn her keep. That night I finally knew who you were, and at that same night, you left me. Never to return again.  
  
And yet I waited. These years spent in pining for you like an old woman, hoping that you would, like you promised, come back for me and hear me sing. I even gave you my first song, which you inspired… all of what I don't feel for McDohl embedded in it. Warmth. Regret. Love.  
  
They say first impressions always last. Maybe you just gave me such a perfect first impression that no other man I have ever met could come close to you. I would not know, and I probably never will - not now, when I am about to give up what we had as a much-loved memory in the back of my mind. Or did we really have something? Or was it just fantasy on my part that you stayed all those nights listening to me because you felt something special for me? Because I certainly did. Felt something special for you, that is.  
  
* sigh *  
  
All the same, it is too late for now. In just a few minutes, I am going to give my life over to General McDohl Caraway, one of the wealthiest men in the whole of Galbadia, and I am going to trust him to make me happy. But my love will always be with you, searching for you, just like my what eyes used to do on those fleeting random nights.  
  
This is the last letter I'm going to write as a free woman, and now I realize why I had the sudden urge to put all this down. You never knew I loved you, never knew that I had always had my eyes on you. This is the legacy of a woman who has had her chance at wealth and fame but who still feels empty, because sometime between her rise, she lost the man who could make her sing.  
  
This is for you, Laguna Loire, so that somehow, someday, you will learn that my last moments of being the girl you knew were spent on longing for you. And that I will always be thankful for having known you, and for being my biggest fan in more ways than one. Maybe I _will_ still long for you years from now, but you know as well as I do that I cannot wait forever…  
  
  
  
The Singer You Inspired,  
  
Julia Heartilly  
  
  


* * *

  
_F/N: Funny, I suddenly liked Julia a whole lot after I wrote this…!_


	4. Bold, Meek Facade

_A/N: I actually had no intention of writing letters for the main characters of this epic game, seeing as there are already way too many good stuff out there to be read, but I thought about Quistis and it struck me that she might have had these feelings that I wrote about in this chapter; naturally, I couldn't stop at "just thinking", so the rest is history. This has no romance, though…just plain insecurities. Anyway, on to those more worthy than I:_  
  
Thank you so much to those who reviewed: **lestatsdarkrose** – good luck with 'tainted blood', I sympathize with the writer's block; **purplesorceress **– thanks for wondering 'bout my humble name, 'winhill melody' is an absolute must-read; **theavatarladymage** – chrono trigger is a _great_ game, I assure you; **faltering hues** – we all could use some publicity, merci! :D; **quis** – this chap's 'bout you; **quycksilver** – tis nice to have someone appreciate the monsters' love affair; **bippo** – 'magic, of sorts' is a great seiftis, your review encouraged me a lot; **stella anon**; **kirin** – loved your comment, lol; **skye eiden** – salamat kabayan!; **the critic** – for deigning to read my fics and for giving such flattering reviews!   
  
**Bold, Meek Façade**

**"Friends are family you choose for yourself."**  


* * *

  
  
For the loyal instructor, Miss Quistis Trepe,  
  
This is a sign of just how low I have sunk: I, Quistis Trepe, instructor to the elite mercenary force called Seed, am now writing official letters to myself, in the hope of relieving myself from the ennui of my existence.  
  
Well, I'm not actually bored; I get more than enough excitement each day - what with traipsing around the world and fighting off monsters bordering from 'decidedly harmless' to 'definitely lethal', while following teenagers almost my age with exceptional characters all their own. No, just…not content.  
  
First things first, I think. What I should be doing right now is making my weekly report to the headmaster on how we're progressing on our mission. What I ended up doing was scribble a few nonsensical lines, and then I promptly fell asleep. I woke up to the sound of Irvine's Bismarck shooting us our dinner for today, then I find myself writing this.  
  
_Quistis Trepe, what has gotten into you?!  
_  
You are _not _the type to put off doing anything, especially your duty, for the sake of frazzled nerves and an over-fatigued body. You are an instructor to Seeds; moreover, you are an example to your students, you should not succumb to human emotions!  
  
* Quistis pauses, she reads what she wrote *  
  
Scary. I finally let that inner voice out and look what it told me, what it made me write. Me, an example? Is this all I'm here for, then? I'm risking life and limb to be someone others would imitate and follow? Students? They're my friends…! And not succumbing to human emotions, that's …Squall. Not me. And no, I don't think I'm an example, at least, I'm not trying to be…Or am I?  
  
Now _that_ is the question. Maybe I am trying to be an example…so why? Because that's how I was raised…to be aloof and cool in all situations…to maintain a strong façade at all times…  
  
* sigh *  
  
Even in my ears, that didn't sound quite right. Sometimes, I feel like I'm all alone, like I'm expendable in battles and as a friend. I know I'm not, that I'm just being silly, but there's no getting around the fact that I've been like an actress all my life, just reading the scripts handed out to me, and I do my best to follow them through. Nobody _knows_ the real me. How can they, when I myself haven't the faintest idea who I really am? Oh yes, I see the way my students look at me, with respect and admiration, and sometimes, even lust. I'm also not oblivious to the fact that I have a fan club; students who call themselves "Trepies" (Hyne, I shake my head every time I hear that), and who, for Hyne's sake, even play with my card. They treat me almost like a goddess, someone they can't get close to, and just have to worship from afar. But I often can't help wondering about what they'll think of me if and when they'll get the chance to really know me: Will they still give me those adoring looks, and trip all over themselves for my attention? Or will they treat me with indifference and stop paying attention to my class? Will they even care?!  
  
On the outside, I keep my head; I'm a professional. I hate setbacks for the simple reason that I can't afford them. I'm not on the same "I show nothing, feel nothing, so why not leave me alone? Whatever…" level that Squall has perfected, but he's the closest one, I think, who can relate to what I feel. He also weighs a lot of responsibilities, like me, but talking to Squall is like talking to yourself in a mirror; in the end you'll only feel nothing but frustration. The inside…the inside is a different story. On the inside, I'm only a girl who's scared and jittery like everyone else. A girl who's yet to experience her first kiss, her first romance. A girl who has dropped low enough to start writing letters to herself, because I'm the only person I'm brave enough to confide all these insecurities to. Does that imply desperation on my part? I don't care, I just need someone to talk to, someone who'd listen. And a small part of me has even begun to hate them all for it: my parents, for not being here; Matron, for starting this world domination thing; Headmaster Cid, for putting all these responsibilities on me – a girl barely out of her teens. For making Seed, which is just a fancy name for human, killing-machines. When will I get to start living my life?  
  
What about the larger part? The other, larger part of me still understands them, despite all my questions. I mean, I can't blame my parents for dying. Matron may be evil now, but nothing can change the way she used to make me feel back on our good old orphanage days – loved, cherished, protected. Headmaster Cid is almost like the father I never knew.  
  
All that leaves me to be an illogical, confused instructor.  
  
Then again, I suppose I can always talk to my friends…  
  
Squall …the last time I opened up to him, he told me to talk to a wall, which is sort of what I'm doing now, only I'm writing a letter. I doubt I'll hear any different from him this time - go figure. Zell…would he understand? He's sweet and sensitive underneath all that bundle of energy, but I sense he'll start feeling uneasy with me when it's all over; and that's the last thing I need right now. Irvine…now what can I say to that guy? He's charming, but he'll most probably just try to hit on me. Rinoa is too…bubbly. Genuinely sweet, but I might just get more depressed when I see how cheerful she is. And so that leaves Selphie…did I say Rinoa was too bubbly? Selphie's more likely to pour foam and bubbles all over me! * groans *  
  
Is this what happens when I write to myself? My sense of humor drops to an all-time low, and, if anything, I'm more confused than ever. But I _do _feel better, (if dazed and light-headed is better) so maybe this wasn't such a waste of time, after all. Wow, am I good at pep talking…  
  
Mmmm, those Cockatrices sure smell good… I'm positive that's my stomach making that rumbling sound. I better eat first (not that I need my own permission); I'll try to work on that report later. So, um, it was nice to get all those out, Instructor Trepe.  
  


You,  
  
Quistis Trepe  
  
  
  


* * *

  
_F/N: Vague details are the plague, so a few explanations: I just assumed Quistis' parents to be dead; for all I know, they had reasons for leaving other than that. This was supposedly written before Disc 3, back when Cid's not yet "permanent" on Edea's orphanage (thus the use of Irvine's Bismarck, I don't think Exeter can be acquired before Disc 3. Theoretically, maybe.) And yes, I don't think Cockatrices taste that bad, better them than Funguars or Wendigos, right? Or, ugh, Gaezards…^___^_


	5. Lions Behind Walls

_A/N: Screw early fic intensions. Here's Rinoa's letter to – who else? – Squall, and personally, I like this one more than the others; it's probably because I'm on the brink of having a nervous breakdown from all that college's dumped on me. Yes, I _do_ have a talent for exaggerating, don't I?__ So since this one's my favorite, please be kind enough to review. (Now that's what I call shameless self-promotion ^ ^!) This is a totally made-up scene, so I'll leave it up to you to imagine when this "scene" takes place, given that it's before Ultimecia possesses Rinoa…_

_Again, thanks to all the reviewers. I haven't the will in me to thank each and everyone right now, so I'll leave all that for next time. _If _there is a next time. :)_

**Lions Behind Walls**

**I am everything you want**

**I am everything you need**

**I am everything inside of you**

**That you wish you could be**

**I say all the right things**

**At exactly the right time**

**But I mean nothing to you**

**And I don't know why - **

**Why?**

**- _Vertical Horizon_**

* * *

Dearest Squall,

What's taking you so long? I've been waiting here for over an hour now and you're still a no-show. Oh please…please be okay… 

I guess I'm worrying too much, huh? Being late is just…so not like you. I'm sorry, but I'm actually under the impression that you'd rather be tickled to death by a Death Claw than ever suffer the consequences of being late. You haven't done anything yet to relieve me of that impression …you're as hard as ever, and not softening any time soon.

What is it about you, Squall Leonhart? You're much too cold for me, you're so rigid that I think if you ever tried to bend a little you'll simply break; you cover yourself with all these walls, these barriers that I can't seem to bore a hole in to. And yet here I am writing a letter to you while you kindly keep me waiting. Now that I think about it, you probably intended to keep me waiting all along. And yet…* shakes head *...and yet, here I am loving you, so much so that it hurts to think about you even feeling any pain.

Well, wanna know what I think? You're selfish, Squall. You have so much to give, but what do you do? Instead of sharing yourself with us – your friends, you keep everything bottled up inside of you, too selfish to share your world. You do things alone, silent and reserved. You keep us away from you.

Hyne, but I love you.

I don't know how, or why, I just know I want to give you all of me. I want to heal you, because I know that underneath all that reserve is a boy who's hurting and alone. Why, Squall? I want to know WHY.

Do you remember the first time we met? You were standing there all alone with that eternal scowl on your face looking like you could care less if the world suddenly blew up then and there. I knew instinctively that you were someone special, someone who's destined to have all the happiness he craves. You don't know this, but you and Seifer are more alike than you're willing to admit. I believe Seifer's like that because he envies you, Squall. You go out of your way to remain unseen – inconspicuous, but people always notice you. Seifer _wants_ to be noticed. He's always gotta do something big. But you – you have us, but you turn us away.

The problem is that you don't know what you want. Nobody knows either. 

What I _do _know is what _I_ want. 

What I want is to wring a conversation out of you that doesn't contain a single "Whatever" coming out of your mouth. 

I want you to ask me to dance and not the other way around. 

I want you to like me, without me resorting to any of my hypnotic powers. 

I want to count falling stars with you on a peaceful world. 

I want you to open up and talk to us over the most trivial things in this world, like – like hotdogs and cafeteria ladies and school library regulations. 

I want to smooth out all those frowns and see you smile. 

I want you to hug me and like it. 

I want to hear you laugh, like you do it every time. 

I want you to give me a glimpse of your world that you never show to anyone. 

I want to be a part of that world.

_I want you to love me._

And you know what? I _will_ get what I want. I'll free you from everything. I promise. Someday.

So watch your back, Squall!

Still _patiently _waiting,

Rin

* * *

_F/N: What I mentioned about Seifer in this letter is based entirely on my opinion of him, but I like him anyway. I just don't want anyone complaining about my putting down Seifer – that's just the way I see him, k? ^__~_


End file.
